


Oxytocin

by die_traumerei



Series: Chemistry [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Mute Bucky Barnes, Sickfic, Tattoos, past bucky barnes/t'challa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:09:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6968350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky tells Steve a story to get him to shut up and go the fuck to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oxytocin

**Author's Note:**

> I was tempted to call this by the chemical name as well, but realized I did not hate all of us enough to deal with that.
> 
> (Oxytocin is a hormone that is associated with feeling love and closeness; it's one of the ones released in an orgasm.)
> 
> I've got a longer sequel in the works, but I missed this 'verse and these boys so very much, I just had to get this out. It is set after the end of C8H10N4O2.
> 
>  
> 
> This work is now available [in Polish](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6977206).

Shouldn't you be in bed?

“No.” Steve coughed, a deep reverberating sound. “I got thirsty.”

Bucky sighed. Steve was supposed to be _resting_ , and yet Bucky had seen him up and about more than was strictly necessary for thirsty, hungry, bored and need to pee, which were only a small percentage of Steve's excuses.

“What? I'm not dying or anything, Buck, I've got a cold.” He scowled.

_your son has bronchitis and he's telling me it's a cold and making a mean face at me_ Bucky texted to Sarah Rogers, while Steve grumped his way into the kitchen. _just thought you should know_

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _Darling, if you need to kill him, I'll understand. Hang on one sec, sweetie._

Bucky heard Steve's cell phone ring. He shamelessly eavesdropped on one side of the conversation while playing a game on his phone, trying to look innocent.

Steve stomped back into the living room. “My mother says I'm to apologize to you and go take a nap.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“For fuck's sake, I'm _fine_ ,” Steve said, and stalked into the bedroom, water bottle in hand.

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _did that do the trick?_

**Bucky:** _I think I fucked up, actually. He seems really angry at me :/_

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _Oh, honey. I'm sorry – if it helps, it's not you. He's uncomfortable and cranky. He also knows better, honest._

**Bucky:** _Nah, it's okay. I'm gonna leave him alone to cool off for a bit, then bring a peace offering. What's a good sick-Steve food?_

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _Strychnine._

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _For real, put some orange juice in a mug or something and freeze it for a little bit, then stir it. Keep doing that – like making granita?_

**Bucky:** _Yeah, I know what you mean. he'll like that?_

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _he'll be putty in your hands._

**Bucky:** _hah. i'd settle for him being a little less combative, honest_

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _yeah good luck with that._

**Bucky:** _thanks Sarah. Sorry if I bothered you._

**Sarah** **Steve's Mom** **:** _You didn't. Text me anytime, sweetheart, day or night. Love to you both._

**Bucky:** _Love from us both xx_

Bucky went to go start the treat, pleased when it was done, with careful use of the back of the freezer, in under an hour.

He topped the little bowl with a sprig of mint from the plant in the kitchen, and went to go check on Steve.

Bucky knocked softly on the door to their bedroom then let himself in.

Steve was curled up, a lump under the covers, but at least he wasn't coughing. Bucky stole in almost on tip-toe, and set the bowl and spoon down. He perched on the side of the bed and rested his hand on Steve's back, still a little too warm even through the blanket.

Steve must have drifted off, poor guy. Bucky leaned over and kissed the little pouf of blond hair that was visible, as softly as he could, then got up to steal back into the living room.

“No, don't go.” Steve rolled over, his face still red and his eyes bloodshot and teary. He sniffled, and coughed, and mussed his hair up even more. “Please don't go, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled, and leaned over to kiss Steve's forehead. He sat up and handed the cold bowl to Steve, whose face. Well. Bucky hadn't been sure it was possible to feel all of those emotions at once.

“Did Mom tell you about this?”

Bucky nodded and tried to flatten the worst of Steve's hair. But, you know, affectionately.

“Bucky...” Steve sniffled and swiped at his eyes. “Why the hell are you so nice to an asshole like me?”

I like you. I love you.  The simple answers worked best when Steve was in this mood.  Eat or it will melt. 

Steve ducked his head and settled back against a pile of pillows. “Thank you,” he mumbled, and ate.

I'm an asshole too sometimes, and you're nice to me  , Bucky reminded.  we work it out 

Steve smiled and nodded, and finished the frozen orange juice slowly, savoring it.

feel better?

Steve nodded and lay back down.

still want me to stay?

“Please?” Steve asked, and Bucky settled back against the headboard and held out his arms, smiling when Steve crawled into them and settled, head resting on Bucky's chest and arms loose around his waist.

“'m sorry I'm a dick.”

Bucky laughed silently, but knew Steve would feel it, and leaned over to kiss his head. He pulled his phone out and turned on text-to-speech; he didn't love using this, but it was easier than making Steve move to watch him type or sign.

“I'm sorry I texted your Mom. Just want you to rest and get better.”

Steve smiled and kissed his chest. “Why so serious? I miss Scottish Female.”

Bucky gave him a little poke in the shoulder. He was trying to use text-to-speech a little more, just in case he ever really needed it, which mean American Male was now the default setting. Hilarious accents would not go over well at the DMV.

Steve smiled and hugged Bucky around the middle. “Sorry, I shouldn't tease you, love.” He snuggled a little closer and yawned. “Tell me a story? I'm bored.”

“Only boring people get bored,” Bucky said, via his phone, and rubbed Steve's back.

“I don't like you anymore,” Steve announced, and Bucky laughed. And, inevitably, Steve got another coughing fit, Bucky rubbing his back through it.

“Story?” he asked, voice strained. Bucky smiled and resettled them so that Steve could see him sign. This called for something a little more intimate.

What do you want to hear? Fairy tale?

Steve shook his head. “Something about you.”

you know everything about me by now

“No I don't.” Steve shifted, settling a little more against the pillows, smiling and sleepy-eyed. “Tell me about your tattoo.”

Bucky grinned at him, and reached out to trace Steve's own latest, a trio of roses in front of a shield on his forearm.  Why are you so interested? Yours are prettier. 

“Yours is interesting! Like I said, it's art because it's on you. It's a part of you, and that makes it beautiful.” Steve cupped his hand around Bucky's and pulled it a little closer so he could kiss the black band around his wrist. “Did you get it after your accident?”

Yes, although not because of it. I was still trying to pretend it had never happened  Bucky signed, after gently pulling his arm away so he could use the hand.  you're going to make fun of me 

“I usually do,” Steve said agreeably and coughed, although only once this time.

Bucky sat up tailor-fashion so Steve could see him, but also so he could sign easily, tell his story with his whole body.  Did I ever tell you about T-C-h-a-l-l-a?  he signed, and then did T'Challa's name-sign for Steve.

“No, don't think so. Who was he?”

Someone I dated once. Before I met Nat. Right after the accident.  Bucky signed, remembering.  We met in the middle of a bar fight. I wasn't involved, he was, and thought I was. When he realized, we got out of there to someplace safe. He made sure I didn't get hurt. 

Steve smiled widely. “I like him.”

You would! He was very kind. And VERY VERY VERY handsome.  Bucky smiled shyly, remembering.  Amazing smile. He was from R-w-a-n-d-a, moved back a few years ago. 

“That's a shame,” Steve said softly. “I'd have liked to meet him.”

Bucky paused to kiss his lover who didn't have a jealous bone in his body. And another kiss, because sometimes Steve needed reminding about things.

Are you p-o-l-y?  he signed, the question just then occurring to him.

“What? Oh, polyamorous?” Steve asked, confirming, and shook his head. “Not really. Just...don't get jealous.” He blushed. “I know I'm yours, love.”

YES YOU ARE  Bucky signed as emphatically as possible. He made Steve's name sign, and drew it against his body, curling over it protectively. His lover. _His_.

Steve laughed out loud. “Oh my God, you're adorable. Tell me about your _tattoo_ ,” he whined, poking Bucky in the belly. “I thought this was your storytime.”

Bucky smiled and leaned over for one more kiss, and to check his boyfriend's temperature. Steve's forehead was still a little warm, but better than it had been, and he adjusted some pillows so he was lying at a slightly higher angle, but still cradled in soft things.

“I'm fine,” Steve assured him, and poked him again. “ _Story_.”

Bucky stuck his tongue out and sat up, resuming what he was suspecting would be the worst bedtime story of all time.  We started dating, and it was good. I liked him a lot. I was intimidated, a little  , he admitted.  T'Challa was very cultured, very experienced in life. Very kind! He treated me well, but I was messed up. 

“Hey,” Steve said softly, and reached out, resting his hand on Bucky's thigh and rubbing it.

I was. But I'm making this a sad story, when it wasn't.  Bucky smiled shyly.  He was very good for me, and I hope I was for him. So when he asked what I wanted for my birthday, I panicked and said a tattoo. 

Steve grinned. “Oh my God. Why on earth?”

It seemed really adult! And something I had that he didn't!  Bucky giggled silently.  And I couldn't back down. So he made an appointment. And asked what I wanted. 

“Oh my God,” Steve said, laughing. “Did you panic again and go for something requiring very little design?”

How did you guess

“Oh my _God_.” Steve laughed harder. “What did you tell him?”

That it represented the end of a part of my life. That it was a visual representation of when I couldn't use my arm and the accident and that it was over.  Bucky shrugged.  It was kind of true at the time anyway 

“Oh, honey.” Steve rubbed his thigh. “So your beloved boyfriend bought you a tattoo for your birthday based entirely on some bullshit you made up in about forty-five seconds.

You got it!  Bucky laughed and traced the black band with one fingertip.  I love it now. It's from a time when I was still not sure who I was. It's T'Challa's kindness and my creativity. 

“I love it too.” Steve said, smiling at him from his pile of pillows and blankets. “I really love the story behind it. Here I thought it would be this serious transformative thing, that you didn't talk about because it was all tied up with the pain of your accident.”

When really, it is symbolic of my generally being a loser

Steve shook his head. “Nah. It's about how much you love other people. Of how creative you are, like you said. Of how someone once loved you and gave you a gift you carry with you forever.” His smile grew. “Buck, like half my tattoos don't mean anything, I just like how they look. That's allowed.”

Bucky shrugged and nodded.  I love how it looks on me! And you know I love yours. Anything new planned? 

“Not for a little bit,” Steve admitted. “How 'bout you? Ever gonna get anything else?”

Bucky shrugged.  Don't know. Maybe if something catches my eye, but I never wanted to before 

“Fair enough.” Steve yawned, coughed, and snuggled down. “Thank you. I liked my story.”

Steve, it was a terrible story

“Still liked it.”

Go to sleep, love  Bucky urged gently.  I'll be right here 

“Y'don't have to,” Steve protested, but it wasn't very cranky. At least, not relative to how he was lately.

Bucky made the sign for  I love you  and pressed his hand against the side of Steve's face, making him yelp and laugh until he coughed. A little guilty, Bucky rubbed his back through the latest fit, then helped tuck him in a little better. He'd make more of the ersatz granita for when Steve woke up.

“I love you too,” Steve mumbled, and drifted off as Bucky watched, thoughtfully rubbing the dark band around his wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed a little peek into their lives!
> 
> NB: I chose to make T'Challa's homeland not Wakanda, as I want to keep this story firmly in the real world. I picked Rwanda because (dictatorship aside), it is a functioning East African country, and I could believe a well-educated, well-off young man would return there to help rebuild his country. (Tanzania was my runner-up.) I'm not married to this decision; if you're really pissed off about it or hurt by it, I welcome dialogue.


End file.
